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UNITED STATKS OF AMERICA. J j 



ADDRESS 



DELIVERED BY 



REV. CLEMENT M. BUTLER, 



AT THE PRESIDENT'S MANSION, 



ON TDK ocoASioii or 



THE FUNERAL OF ABEL P. IPSHIR, T. W. GILMB, AND OTHERS, 



WHO LOST THEIR LIVES BY THE EXPLOSION 



ON BOARD THE PRINCETON, 



FEBRUARY 28, 1841. 



rVBLISIIED BY REQUEST. 



WASHINGTON: 

TRINTEP BT J. AND R. B. GIDEOH. 



1844. 






Washinoton, March 4, 1844 

di'coH pubSon """'■ "■' '"""" ''"' °f '"'"■"»"»' = -^ «' >- 

With great respect, very sincerely, yours, &c. 

RICH'D S. COXE. 
Rer. C. M. BuTi,ER, ^" ^'^"^^ "^ '^^ Committee. 

Georgetown, JD. C. 

Geoegktown, D. C., March 5, 1844 
Dear Sir : It is a source of great gratification to me to learn that the address de 

Commt' ";r ''""^'^^'^^ ^'^ "--^^''^^"^'^ Mansion, was, in th opin on o fe 
C mmutee of Arrangements, calculated to produce a salutary impression n he pubj 

fest^Ll'f ::^':r;f --^ ^° ^^^ Comm.ttee of Arrangements for the. indulgent 

I remain, with great respect, sincerely yours, 
RxcH'oS. CoxE.Esq. C.M.BUTLER. 



ADDRESS. 



Never has it been my lot to rise in a place of mourning under so intense 
and profound a conviction of the inefficacy of words to add any thing of 
impressiveness to that which the scene itself presents, as upon this occa- 
sion. Upon ordinary occasions of mortality, it not unfrequently happens, 
that the words of the speaker appear to be needed to convince us, even iu 
the presence of the dead, that we must die ; to make us realize the un- 
certainty of life, even when we stand before the most convincing evidence 
of the truth. But I do not feel that it is so here and now. In this instance, 
the fact of death, as known to all, itself speaks with awful and appalling 
eloquence. The dreadful catastrophe which produced the death of the 
distinguished individuals whose obsequies we celebrate, lives in the inef- 
faceable colors of horror, in the hearts of its paralyzed spectators, and of 
those who have listened to their recital. So sudden, so terrific, so like 
the lightning execution of a word spoken by the Almighty, was the dread 
catastrophe, that we stand before it, pale and quivering, and confess that 
" the Lord — the Lord, he is God !" The speaker's task is already done 
for him. There is the solemn argument and the touching appeal — there 
is the awful fact and its impressive lesson. It is briefly and simply this : 
♦* AVe must die, let us prepare for it." I know my friends, that in this 
presence of the honored dead, you confess the cogency of the argument, 
and feel the subduing pathos of the appeal. There is not one of us, who 
is not, for the time at least, made wise and thoughtful by this awful dis- 
pensation. By it, youth has been forced into the wisdom of experienced 
age. By it, a strong arresting hand has been laid upon the thoughtless, 
compelling them to think. By it, the gay have been made grave. The 
statesman, arrested amid his high cares, has bent over the lifeless forms of 
those who were his associates but as yesterday, and as he dropped over 
them the tear of friendship, has felt and confessed the nothingness of re- 
nown. The Senator has paused in the responsible duties of his country's 
legislation, awed and solemnized by this sudden stroke of death. Giving 
to patriotism the hallowed spirit and accents of religion, he has uttered, in 
words of persuasive and lofty eloquence, lessons of the truest and purest 
— because of Heavenly — wisdom.* For the time at least, we all are wise, 
we all are thoughtful. God grant that we may be wise unto salvation ! 

•See the speech of the Hon. Mr. Rives, in the Senate of the United States, on the 
day succeeding the catastrophe upon the Princeton. 



first circumstance in this fearful catastrophe whicii arrests our atten- 
the elevated station of all its victims. I knoAV that the true worth 
ul, in the eye of reason and of God, depends not at all upon its out- 
Qvironment, but upon its moral 'characteristics. Nevertheless, con- 
as we are, it does more powerfully impress us to see daring death 
the summit of life, and at one fell stroke, bring down the loftiest 
of Lebanon, than it does to see him pass his inexorable scythe un- 
lilies of the valley. As they are precipitated from their high eleva- 
e noise of their fall wakes a startling echo in the heart, and scatters 
wide spread ruin. In our human weakness, we are apt to say, " if 
y must thus fall, then how surely must the humble." Though there 
orce of logic in the deduction, because all alike are mortal, there is 
alutary impression for the heart in such natural reflection. But 
such an event may add nothing to the proof that we must die, which 
)t exist in the case of the humblest child of mortality, it does most 
rly enfoi'ce this lesson, that " the glory of man is as the flower of 
ind that the fashion of this world passeth away." There are be- 
the lifeless remains of those of whom affection does not speak more 
here at home, than fame speaks loudly and proudly of them abroad. 
rho ha3 held two elevated ofiices under the present administration 
jnor, and discharged their duties Avith high reputation and success, 
)wned with every civic and social virtue.* tAnother, citizen of the 
itate, called but recently to the high oflice which he occupied at the 
of his sudden death, has been distinguished in the general council 
nation, and the political history of his native State. tOf him who 
by his side, we may say, that none knew him but to love him — so 
gly were blended in him, the characteristic excellencies of his pro- 
, with those M'hich were peculiarly and strikingly his own. §Another 
of this awful calamity, a guest here, is well known in the councils 
native State. ||And yet another, not forgotten because his remains, 
lience to the wishes of widowed love, are not here, has not only dis- 
hed himself by his able services for his country at a foreign court, 
3 made for himself, by his singularly amiable and attractive character, 
and warm place in the hearts of his fellow-citizens at home. And 
if all this station, talent, and renown, this is the end — this the all ! 
ay I not say, must I not say, to the illustrious assemblage here 
3d about the dead, with the respect which is due to their exalted 
, yet with the fidelity which becomes the humblest minister of God, 
forgetful of their responsibilities to Almighty God, forgetful of the 

n. Mr Upshur. ]Uon. Mr. Gilmer. JCaptain Kennon. §Col. Gardiner. 
Mr. Maxcy. 



necessity of preparation for existence beyond the tomb, tliey are in pursuu 
of fame or honor, as an end, as a substantial good, as a satisfying enjoy- 
ment, as the enough of their existence ; must I not say to them, as the 
impressive lesson of this dark day, that they are in persuit of a shining, 
illusive shadow, which lures them on to disappointment and to ruin ! It is 
the child's chase after' the rainbow — and when you shall fall panting and 
exhausted on the hill-top, where its base seemed to rest, the glory, to your 
eye, will have receded as far from you as ever, though you may seem to 
those below you in the distance, to be wrapped in its glitterincr radiance, 
as in a robe of glory. From yonder palls there comes to the men of sta- 
tion and renown this impressive lesson, "This world's glory is, at the best 
but a poor distorted shadow of that which is real and substantial ; and he 
whose heart is supremely and exclusively fixed upon the shadow, loses 
the reality. Seek ye the glory and the bliss of heaven." 

Another circumstance of this calamity, which has not failed to arrest 
the attention of us all, is the awful suddenness of the stroke, and the ap- 
palling contrast exhibited between the mirth and happiness of one moment, 
and the terror and agony of the next. A few evenings since, this hall 
was lighted up and adorned with the flower of the capital and country- 
its rank, its talent, its renown, its youth, grace, and beauty. The illus- 
trious deceased were all here, with hearts beating with the pulses of health 
and of enjoyment, and with their well won honors clustering upon them. 
Now, they are here, and so! The next day saw them embarked with a 
large and gay assemblage in that wondrous ship, which seems to possess 
a conscious vitality, and to move over the waters at the pleasure of its own 
wizard will. In that vessel, freighted with rank, fashion, and beauty, 
consecrated for the time to purposes of festivity, as it glides over the sun- 
ny waters, with Death crouching in its awful den, ready to sprincr on 
those who dreamed not of his presence, I seem to see an affecting em- 
blem of the life of pleasure, on which so many thoughdess ones embark, 
unconscious, as they glide over life's glancing waters, of approachino- 
doom. And now, " all is merry as a marriage bell," as the festive bark 
speeds on — " youth at the prow, and pleasure at the helm." While some 
linger at the banquet, and some are listening to the song, these fated ones 
walk, smiling and unconscious, into the jaws of death. In the twinklino- 
of an eye, on wings of flame, their souls rush into the presence of the 
thrice-holy, heart-searching God ! My friends, I desire not to harrow up 
your minds by an attempt to recall the horrors that succeeded that dread- 
ful and fetal explosion. I wish but to urge the lesson taught by that fear- 
ful transition from merriment to wo^from the light laugh of hilarity to 
the wail of agonized and bereaved love. Is it wise, is it right, in a world 



where such things can be and are, to liA'e as if they could not be and are 
not ? Had you — I speak to those, especially, who were present, and to 
all who hear me — had you been thus suddenly summoned into the pre- 
sence of a holy God, do you suppose you would have been ready to meet 
him ? The question is not, as the heart's sophistry Avill endeavor to per- 
suade some it is, — " was it, abstractly considered, right or wrong to be 
there ?" It is a question far higher and more momentous. The question 
is this — Is the temper of your soul such, is its condition in the sight of 
God such, is the tenor of your life such, is your manifested regard to 
God's law such, as fits you to stand up without warning and without 
preparation before Him, Avho is of purer eyes than to behold iniquity 1 It 
is a fearful question. 1 know not what you are in the sight of God, but I 
know what awful sayings the word of my God contains. I remember that it 
asks this question, and gives this answer: " Those eighteen upon whom 
the tower in Siloam fell and slew them, think ye that they were sinners 
above all men that dwelt in Jerusalem, because they suffered such things ? 
I tell you, nay ; but except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish." I re- 
member the question : " How shall ye escape, if ye neglect so great sal- 
vation?" I hear coming from this dispensation, for many a careless one, 
this fearful declaration: "She that liveth in pleasure is dead while she 
liveth." Will any satisfy their minds by the resolution not again to place 
themselves in a scene of danger! Alas, my friends, we know not when 
we are in danger. We walk over slumbering mines. We dance on the brow 
of the precipice. There is never but a step between us and death. It is 
only because a forgotten God upholds us, that we draw our present breath. 
It is altogether of his mercies that we are not consumed. 

An earthquake may be bid to spare 
The man that's strangled by a hair ! 

A wiser and more solemn determination than to avoid supposed danger, 
is demanded of us all by this dispensation. Oh ! may all here present, 
for whom the world has an absorbing charm, which makes them forget 
their God, listen to the awful lesson, delivered in thunder, and flame and 
blood and death, and wo and wailing, which God has addressed to this, 
alas ! too gay, too giddy Capital! 

Another circumstance in this catastrophe, which arrests all minds and 
moves all hearts, is the sorrow of the stricken and bereaved relatives and 
friends. It is, indeed, such a wo as a stranger intermeddleth not with. 
We would not rudely penetrate into the sacred sanctuaria of their sorrow- 
ing hearts. But we would — and find it the dictate of our hearts to do it — 
obey the scripture injunction which directs us to weep with those that 



weep. But that we know " Earth hath no sorrow which Heaven cannot 
cure," it would seem that their affliction is more than they can bear. If, 
at this dark hour, sympathy is soothing to their hearts, we can assure 
them that is poured forth in full and flowing tides from the heart of this 
community — nay, from the national heart. If, at such a moment, earthly 
Iionors had any balm for wounded hearts, that balm would not be wanting. 
If — and here we speak without peradventure — if the prayer of pious hearts 
prevail with God — if the blessed influences of that spirit whose dear name 
is Comforter — have a soothing ministry for the stricken soul, they shall 
not be left uncomforted — they shall see " the bright light in the cloud." 
And as we think of the suff'erers by this calamity, let us not forget the 
commander of the fated ship. It is a prayer in which I am sukj every 
heart here unites, that that gallant and accomplished officer may soon 
again be restored to his country's service, and that he may be spared the 
unavailing bitterness of a too long, too deeply cherished, sorrow and regret. 
And now, in conclusion, let us bear with us to the tomb another solemn 
lesson which this dispensation teaches us. It is a truth broadly and 
brightly written in God's word, that, for national transgressions, God visits, 
as a nation, their offences with a rod, and their sins with scourges. Some- 
times he sends disaster and gloom over the people, and sometimes he 
strikes down their choicest rulers. In cither case, it becomes a people, 
and a people's legislators and rulers, to humble themselves before God, 
that his wrath may be turned away from them, and that his hand be not 
stretched out still. Now, by this dispensation, from tlic highest officer of 
the Government, from the bereaved ruler of the nation, who, at one stroke, 
has lost his trustiest counsellors and his choicest friends, through many 
intervening circles, to the hallowed one of home, there is weeping, lamen- 
tation, and wo. I altogether read amiss the design of this dispensation if 
it be not to bring the people to a humble confession and abandonment of 
their sins ; to teach our judges counsel and our senators wisdom. Salu- 
tary, indeed, would be the effect of this dispensation if here and now — 
and what place so fit, what scene so appropriate, what "hour" so "ac- 
cepted," as this place and scone and hour ? — salutary, indeed, would this 
dispensation prove if here and now, in the hearts of this embodied repre- 
sentation of the people of this country, there were breathed by all the 
silent vow to Heaven that they would exert their personal and official 
influence to secure honor to God's supreme autliority, obedience to God's 
paramount law. If the resolution here be taken to promote, by influence 
and example, the observance of God's holy day, to check licentiousness 
and dissipation, and all the national crimes which cry out to Heaven 
against us, then would we see light springing out of the darkness of this 



tlispensation. Then it would be seen how righteousness exalteth a nation. 
Then would God be the shield of this people's help, and its excellency. 
Then would it ride upon the high places of the world's renown. Then 
we would have no need to fear, for the Lord of Hosts would be with us— 
the God of Jacob would be our refuo-e. 

I will delay the last melancholy duties to the dead no longer. My 
prayer is that we may pluck the plants of heavenly wisdom which will 
spring out of the graves of these illpstridus men, and apply them to our 
health and healing, as individuals ancf as a people ! And may God grant 
that this awful dispensation may accomplish that whereunlo he sent it ! 



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